Her Punishment

HER PUNISHMENT PART ONE

It had been an "other than normal" Saturday to say the least. I had had too much to drink the night before and hadn’t gotten enough sleep either so I was finding everything exceptionally annoying. I whined. I complained. I bitched. About everything.

My coffee got cold before I was able to finish drinking it. Why wouldn't His phone stop ringing? I didn't feel like shopping. I wasn't in the mood for Chinese Food. Why did the dog have to be walked right now? Had the weather man called for rain ALL Weekend? Why couldn't we work during the week and play all weekend? I couldn't find my cigarettes, oh great, now my lighter was missing. He wasn't paying enough attention to me. I was bored. You get the idea. On and on I complained.

I very rarely behave that way, I could tell it was annoying Him. Grating on his nerves, in fact. He kept giving me warnings, I'd go off on a tangent and He'd give me The Look that means I’d better stop it. So, I'd stop, for a moment. Then something would happen (or nothing would happen) and it would send me into a new rant. Finally, after several hours He stopped giving me The Look. It seems that I'd graduated to a word or two, "Dee…" He'd say, that warning sound in His voice and I'd shut up. Then a little later, I'd start again, "For Christ's sake…." He'd say, so I'd shut up. Then later, when I'd started to bitch again, "Don't you think that's about enough already?" He asked me. "No." I said, under my breath.

The fact is that, I DID think it was enough already, but I felt like I couldn't help it. It was like another person had taken over my mind and mouth. That's when I began to pout and decided not to speak at all. "Maybe" I thought spitefully to myself, "He'd like it better if I didn't speak at all." So I didn't speak at all. An hour passed, then two. I had a million things to say, but I didn't say any of it. He continued on with His business for the rest of the day, with me by his side, as I remained completely silent. He acted as if nothing were amiss! He didn't even notice or care that I'd stopped talking completely.

Not talking was starting to kill me. I had things to say! Important things! "Hmmmm…." He said aloud, at the hardware store, He was purchasing more rope, I started wondering if He planned to tie me up with it later but still, I wouldn’t deign to ask "I wonder which rope would be most effective?" He held one length of rope in each hand, comparing each of them, they were of different materials. "What do you think?" He asked me. I clamped my mouth shut tight. The fact is, it would depend on what the rope was for. What was the rope for? I wanted to ask if it was for tying me and if it was then I would’ve responded, "The one on the right! The one on the right!"  but since I wasn’t speaking I just looked away and said nothing. "I think the one on the…..left." He mused….and put the other back on the shelf. I stomped my foot once on the ground, if He noticed He didn't respond. The one on the left would be too scratchy, I was sure of it. GRUMP!

By the time we got home I was bursting to speak. He was acting as if everything were perfectly normal. I followed Him inside without a word. "Okay," He addressed me cheerfully, "I'd like you to get ready." I cocked my head sideways inquisitively. "For tonight." He answered my unspoken question. "I'd like you to put on, let's see…." He tapped His chin, thinking. "Put on the black stockings, the ones with the black line up the back. The leather boots that lace up in the back and come just below your knees…." Those were my favorite boots, but I didn't smile. "That black skirt I like so much….and you choose your top….black panties, no bra…..understood?" He asked me….I still didn't speak… "Go on now" He directed me. And I dipped my eyes to the ground then back to Him, that was my "Yes, Sir." Without speaking.

I was feeling better. He wanted to play with me tonight, or He wouldn't have chosen an outfit for me. Every piece of clothing that I own had been chosen and purchased by Him. Chosen because it accentuated my best features, chosen because He liked the way I looked when wearing it, chosen because it pleased Him. I did so want to please Him. Each piece of clothing I owned had been given to me as a reward. A reward for being a good girl. For being His good girl. After much deliberation I chose a lacy black & white corset/tank top type of shirt I hoped He would love.

I took a hot and leisurely shower, washing my long, black hair and smoothing thick lather all over my skin with a scratchy plastic loofah, taking extra care while shaving to ensure that every part of my body was ultra smooth and soft, just the way He likes it. As I watched the hot water run down my own breasts and tummy, and over my now smooth and hairless pussy, I started to get extremely turned on. I slid my hands up and down over my body and I imagined His eyes on me. I tried to imagine how I must look through His eyes. My nipples got hard and my pussy was getting wet….and I swear I could feel each and every drop of water from the shower head as it hit my skin….I switched my position and let my legs fall open just a bit, just a bit…just enough to let the spray of the water caress me in just the right spot…..and just when it was getting very hot in there I remembered that I wasn't allowed to come without His express permission.

"Ugh..." I groaned in frustration...that was an easy rule to forget sometimes. But I wasn't going to come. I could control myself for….just a few more seconds….just a few more. I knew if I had an orgasm without permission, He would know. He always knew. At that moment, with the hot water streaming over me, my hands on my breasts, I could almost feel Him behind me, my back pressed against His chest….the water flowing over us, His hot breath on my ear, as He whispered, "Not yet….not yet…." Goosebumps raised up on my skin and I got that feeling….the delicious feeling that comes over me the split second after He drives Himself hard into me….and I jumped quickly out of the shower…. "God, god, god…." Almost hadn't made it, almost hadn't stopped in time…. I grabbed a towel from the rack and threw open the bathroom door, the steam escaping in a big puff and steaming up the mirror all the way across the master bedroom…

I flopped myself onto the quilt out in the bedroom where it was cool in order to air dry and I very carefully avoided touching or even thinking about my most sensitive areas…didn't want to have any accidents. My breath was coming in short little gasps and my cheeks were flushed. I felt dizzy…the shower water had probably been too hot…every bit of my skin was hot and pink. Steam literally rose from my naked body. Yikes.

After I had cooled down a bit, I thoughtfully applied my make-up….smoky eyes and darker than usual lipstick. I looked in the mirror and fluffed up my hair a bit….I wanted to let it air dry. It would leave my curls more defined….I shook my head several times….though very long, it wasn't incredibly thick and it would dry fast.

I put each piece of clothing on that He had requested….as I slipped into each of the items He'd requested, I felt the love that had gone into each purchase....as I zipped my boot I caught my reflection in the mirror and nearly didn't recognize the girl there. He told me once, when we first met that I looked like a librarian….just like the dirty librarian at the beginning of a porn movie, who you knew was about to turn into a crazy nympho. When He saw me tonight, He would say, "Now, you are starting to look like the slut you really are…."

I slowly walked down the stairs and felt my clit react when He said it, my pussy quickly getting damp again. "Do you know what I have planned for you this evening?" He asked me, I shook my head no. "Kneel down, right here little one...." He said, pointing to the floor in front of where He sat and as I did so, He began to speak....

As I knelt before him, waiting for Him to speak I tried to determine the reason why I'd been acting so horribly all day. But, none of that mattered now, anyway. He was here and I was here. And His focus was entirely on me, now.

"You've been very naughty...all day." He pointed out, holding my upturned face gently in His big hands and looking down at me. I shifted my glance to the side. "I know, I'm so sorry, Sir." I said, and I meant it. "I'll make up for it, I promise." I offered hopefully, gingerly making eye contact with Him. "Yes you will make up for it." He said, then He clicked His tounge at my reaction.

"Now, now." He said, soothingly, "Don't look so dejected. Since you have displeased Me all day, I think it only fitting that I should have a more....pleasing playmate for the evening."  My mouth dropped open. Without missing a beat, He put a finger under my chin and gently pushed my mouth closed. "You would have to agree..." He admonished, "That a playmate who pleases Me is what I deserve, would you not?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "At any rate," He quipped. "It is My wish and your punishment." I was utterly miserable at that moment and I'm quite certain it showed on my face.

He continued speaking, "I have contacted Mr. Smith." He said, "You do remember Him?" I nodded numbly. I remembered Him. He was a Dom acquaintance of my Master.

"And He has graciously agreed to send Elizabeth over for a visit tonight." He finished. Elizabeth was Mr. Smith's slave. A pretty little pixie of a girl with a short little blonde bob haircut, we had all had dinner together once. Ugh. This couldn't be happening. Phooey on my stupid big mouth and phooey on stupid Elizabeth. Now she would get to have all the fun, and I'd be stuck, probably watching. Probably tied up tight with that rotten scratchy rope He'd bought this afternoon. And I am sure He spent all afternoon, while I had been silent, brewing up this wretched plan for my punishment.

Probably I'd be tied up so that I was unable to avoid watching the two of them and unable to touch myself in any way. Denied. Forbidden to come. UGH! "How does that sound?" He asked looking at me with a downright chipper look on His face. There was always additional punishment for arguing and additional punishment for being insincere. So I tried desperately not to argue and I did not meet His eye in an attempt to avoid revealing my insincerity as I said, "As You wish, Master."

"Very well." He said, as He stood. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Now, run along and get the car keys." He said turning me in the direction of the entry hall, "You will be picking Elizabeth up in half an hour..." I moved toward the entry way, the sound of His voice fading behind me. "And remember...." He continued, from the kitchen, "you will treat her with the same courtesy that you would extend to any other visitor in My home." He would be making me pick her up. And treat her kindly. And bring her back to His house as His welcomed guest! He had to be kidding!

I flopped down onto the couch and sat staring at my boots. My feet were sweating and my boots felt suddenly uncomfortable. I reached down and unzipped the right one and yanked it off, tossing it away from me. It hit the tile floor with a soft satisfying little thud. From the next room, where He couldn't see my tantrum, cheerfully He said, "Would you like Me to make you a drink?" He never made the drinks. I always made the drinks. I froze mid-zip on the left boot...He had offered to make a drink for me. I assumed He thought that might take the edge off of my interaction with Elizabeth. "Well He," I decided, "was WRONG!"

I finished unzipping the other boot and was yanking it off as He stepped into the room, His glass of scotch, no ice in His right hand, and my margarita on the rocks in His other hand, He had a bewildered look on His face. "You have to go pick up Elizabeth...." He said looking at my bootless feet. "What are you doing?"

"My boots are hurting my feet!" I shouted, pouting. "I DON'T want to wear them! And I DON'T want to drink tonight!" With that I threw the other boot across the room and it fell with the other in the middle of the floor between us, with another little thump. He lifted His eyebrows and sat down our drinks on the mantle of the fireplace then turned to face me, His fists clenched. It was at that point that I realized I had gone too far. I suddenly, desperately wished I could turn back time.

He looked at me from across the room for a long moment, our eyes met and I saw that hard glint in them. My eyes glanced furtively at the boots in the middle of the floor between us, then back to His eyes. I had to get those boots back. Could I make it there before He did? He was fast. I'd seen Him in action. I had to try.

I jumped up and dived for my boots snatching them in my hands at the very moment that his fist clamped in my long hair. I screamed as He dragged me back to the sofa by my hair, then again as He lifted me lightly by the arms and threw me down on the sofa. My breath was coming in short hard gasps and my heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. But I had the boots in my hands. He was a reasonable man. I could still fix this.

I could hardly speak because I couldn't catch my breath and my hands were trembling so hard that I was having trouble handling my boots. I could feel Him towering over me and the air around Him was electric with His anger. I had the feeling if I looked at Him, He might be surrounded in blue sparks. I straightened myself carefully & slowly into a sitting position and kept my eyes on the boots and slid one onto my foot. I attempted to sound nonchalant. "I'm going to be late picking up Elizabeth...if I don't leave now." I said, my voice barely a quivering whisper.

He reached down and snatched the boots from my trembling hands. "Give Me those!" He said, "You don't deserve them!" and just like that, they were gone. My favorite boots. The boots He'd given me because I'd been so good. He thought I was no longer worthy. It was like being splashed with ice water.

He turned on His heels and left the room, then returned with a bottle of tequila in one hand and a shot glass in the other. He slammed the shot glass onto the wooden coffee table in front of me with a loud bang. I jumped. Then he filled the shot glass, some of the amber fluid sloshing out of the glass and puddling onto the table around the glass as He poured. "Drink it." He demanded. Usually I drank tequila with salt and lime, to make it more enjoyable to drink. He always made sure I had what I needed. But not tonight. Not now.  Tonight there was no tangy lime, no sea salt. Nothing but the stinging tequila. I hesitated too long. "Drink it." He said, louder this time, a warning in His voice. Again, I jumped.

As I mentioned, I had had too much to drink the night before, my stomach felt queasy...I thought that if I drank it...I might be sick. I didn't want to argue, but I didn't want to be sick either. "I can't." I said, and I was trying not to cry. "I'm afraid I'll throw up if I drink it." He picked up the shot glass, and grabbed a handful of my hair and tilted my head back. "You won't get sick." He said as He put the shot glass to my lips and poured the fiery liquid into my mouth..."Swallow it." He said. I did.

He slammed the empty shot glass onto the table again as I reached up and wiped the excess fluid from my chin, I gagged, sputtered and coughed a bit, but I did not get sick. He shook His hand and some of the liquor that had spilled onto His hands splattered onto my face, causing me to blink

.

He poured another shot. I put my hand to my lips and looked up at Him pleadingly. Please, please don't make me drink it. I wanted to say, but i didn't. He didn't speak, just motioned to the glass, almost patiently, waiting for me to drink the shot. I reached down and picked up the glass and put it to my lips. My stomach churned. my body said, "Don't you dare take that drink." I looked up at Him and He nodded. I gagged as I drank the shot.

He snatched the glass from my hand and again slammed it on the table, filling it to overflowing. What kind of a weird punishment WAS this? I wondered. Trying to calm my churning tummy. I shook my head, almost imperceptibly. But, of course, He noticed. He crouched before me so that our eyes were level, He touched my chin and lifted my eyes to meet His. I saw nothing of the man who loved me there, what I saw was only hard, unfeeling, and angry green eyes. I felt like He hated me. I had displeased Him. I felt certain He would never look lovingly on me again. I was not worthy of Him and I could not hide it.

"Drink the shot." His voice and His touch were quiet and calm, but His eyes told a scary story of seething anger. I could not remember having ever been so afraid. My entire body was trembling with such force that I could not hold any part of it still. "Drink it, Dee." He repeated, quietly, using my name this time, He leaned in close to me, so that I could feel the heat from His body "Believe Me," His eyes locked onto mine and in a hoarse voice He whispered, "you're going to want to be drunk for what I'm going to do to you tonight."

My heart stopped beating. I swear that it did. For just that second. It was as if the world had ceased to spin, the world actually went black all around Him. And for that moment He was all that was real.  He picked up the shot glass and put it gently in my trembling hand. The liquor sloshed out of the glass and ran down my fingers and dripped onto my stockinged feet.

I drank it then picked up the bottle and poured myself another. Making me drink the tequila hadn't been part of the punishment, it had been a gift. He knew what I could handle sober and what I couldn't, if He thought I needed to drink, then i should drink. It was a gift. Now that He could see that I understood, He left the room, to get what He needed. And I drank several more shots, awaiting my fate....